


Alex

by MLW_writes



Category: Original Work
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-27
Updated: 2016-05-27
Packaged: 2018-07-10 14:32:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,723
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6989116
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MLW_writes/pseuds/MLW_writes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A teenage boy, Alex, moves when his mom finds out about what his dad has been doing. At his new school he makes fast friends with girlfriends Vanessa and Dee. The three quickly start getting into trouble and Alex realizes that moving was the best thing to happen in his life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

I tiptoed as quietly as I could down the incredibly long corridor that held my room at its very end. In between the front door in my bedroom stood my parents room, where my father was hopefully sleeping drunkenly, my 7 year old sister Jamie’s room, where she was most likely cowering hoping dad wouldn’t wake up anytime soon, and the t.v. room, which was the only other room my dad ventured to, if he wasn’t in his sleeping on his bed he was drinking beer on the couch watching his stupid shows. 

As I neared the tv room my anxiety grew more and more and I hoped to God he wasn’t awake in the living room. I stopped right before passing in front of the open door and peered in, glad his chair faced the direction opposite from the corner I peered from. I saw his balding head leaning on the headrest of his chair, his mouth hanging wide open with a beer can in his hand, fortunately his eyes were closed and his breathing was stable enough to tell me he had been sleeping for a while. 

I stepped into the doorway and after taking a deep breath continued a few feet to my room. I closed my bedroom door as quietly as I could, hating the fact that it squeaked horribly. I paused, putting my ear to the door to listen for footsteps, luckily all I heard was a loud snore.

I stared at my tiny bedroom, all it contained was my bed, that was not made and had my black sheets scattered across the carpeted floor, a dresser that was overflowing with clothes I never actually wore, a little desk, that had an old desktop computer, that I had stolen from a garage sale, and my journal sitting on it. My room was small and had barely anything real in it but to me, it was my safe haven. My father never came in my room. No matter how mad he got, he would never come searching for me in my room.

I walked over to my desk and sat down at the wobbly rolling chair that I had obtained from a junkyard and turned my computer on, it immediately opened to minecraft, a game I had tricked my dad into buying for me when he was incredibly drunk. I put my earphones on and turned my playlist on. The first song to come on was the song I listened to most and was my favorite song, ‘Partita in B-Flat Major’ by Bach. The soft, quiet, peacefulness of it seeped deep into my bones and I wished, more than anything, that I could fade away and live inside the music forever. 

As Minecraft loaded I leaned back in my chair and experienced the music. To sit back and feel the music, to live the music is one of the simplest joys in life, a joy anyone, no matter how horrible their living condition is, can do. I imagined myself, on a big stage in front of a crowd of people who admired me, sitting at a piano and playing this song. I made no mistakes, and when I had finished everyone stood up and clapped for me. Clapped for my talent, clapped for something I was good at, no one yelled at me for being too loud, no one slapped me for trying to do something I enjoyed, everyone smiled at me, wiped away their tears, and hugged me. 

When the song ended my eyes fluttered open and I noticed that my game had finally loaded. As soon as I was about to continue living in my own Minecraft world, I heard a soft knock on my door. I quickly turned the computer off, threw my earphones into the corner and jumped onto my bed, closing my eyes and pretended to be napping just in time for the door to creak open and my mom to lean in. 

I heard her walk over to the side of my bed and kneel down, she gently shook me, trying to get my wake up. I slowly opened one eyelid, trying to make it look like I had really just been shaken awake. I noticed she had a new set of bruises around her eyes. She smiled at me and held a finger up to her mouth, telling me not to make any noise, and whispered into my ear, "We're leaving. Pack a bag."

I looked at her, full of happiness and hope. She nodded her head and quickly exited my room. I grabbed a duffle bag from my closet and started stuffing a bunch of clothes, books, notepads, and anything else I thought I needed to bring with me. I grabbed my earphones, a few CD’s I had, My journal, and a family photo of just my mom, my sister and me. It only took me five minutes to pack and as soon as I was done I walked as fast as I could out of my room without being loud. I could see the front door with my mom and sister standing there, both of them had bags in their hands as well and they were smiling. 

Just as I was about to pass the tv room I heard a loud groan and a lot of movement. My eyes widened in absolute horror, 'He just woke up!' I mouthed. My mom made and inaudible gasp and mouthed back, 'Just hurry, he’s still drunk!'

“Jessica! Jessica! Bring me a beer now!” He bellowed for my mom. 

“I’ll be right there!” She called back, dropping her bag and walking into the kitchen. When she reappeared she wasn’t holding a drink, instead she had a baseball bat gripped firmly in her hands. She pointed at me, the the door and nodded her head, asking if he was facing the doorway. I peered my head in to look, he was still sitting in his chair, only this time instead of his head resting on the side of the headrest he was sitting, still slumped over but his eyes were open and focused on his show, not looking to see if she was coming. 

I looked back at my mom and gave her a thumbs up. She stood up straighter and walked into my father’s favorite room. He didn’t turn around when she entered but instead just held out his hand and said, “Give it and leave.” My mom tightened her hold on the bat and swung it was hard as she could at his head. There was a loud CRACK as my dad jerked to the side and fell off his chair, landing with a thud. 

My mom stared at him for a second before dropping the baseball bat and turning to me, “He’s still alive. Let’s go.” I took one last look at my fallen fat heap of a father before exiting the house with my real family. We all climbed in the car, overjoyed at the thought of finally leaving the hellhole we called a house. 

“We’re moving to Texas, kids. We’re starting a new life.”


	2. Ch. 2

I spent the entire drive listening to my mom tell stories while my music played in the background. I had never, in my whole life, seen my mom so happy, she didn’t stop talking the entire 20 hour drive. She talked about anything and everything. 

“Your father wasn’t always that bad,” she said at one point, “He used to really love me. He was such a romantic, always bringing me flowers, and leaving me love notes where he knew I’d find them. Then when we moved in together, he started changing. Not noticeably at first. It’s like when the lights are slowly dimming in a theater and you don’t notice until it’s pitch black. He didn’t start being abusive until Alex came along. He started drinking way more, and he couldn’t control himself. Before we were married he would just call me a few names every now and then,” She sighed deeply, as if it pained her to go on, “Then once we did marry he started pushing me, and shoving me. I thought he was just being playful. Then you were born and everything was okay for about a month, he was the same funny sweet guy I had hoped I was marrying. Then one day he came home and supper wasn’t ready. He had a beer in his hand and was crying, saying that he had lost his job. When he realized I wasn’t done cooking, he got really angry and starting yelling profanities at me, until he snapped and slapped me. That’s when it all really started. He just kept getting worse, I would wait for him to get better, but he never did.”

Another time, around hour 6 or 7 she told us, “I didn’t know he hit you too,” She was looking at me, my father had never touched Jamie. “I found out two days ago when I came home and saw him. That’s when I knew we had to leave. I found a small rental home in a small town in Texas, I have a friend that lives down there, and she promised me that she’d help me out until I found a job. But I couldn’t stay anymore. No one hurts my babies.” 

I didn’t have the guts to tell her that he had been abusing me since I was in the fifth grade and came home with a B in a class. 

My favorite story that she told us was about Jamie, “When Jamie was born I was so excited. I had always wanted a boy and a girl. The second I got to hold her I was in love, her big eyes were open and she was looking straight at me. Her little hands were in fists and she looked ready to fight anyone who tried to mess with her. You were the same fiery little girl you are now,” She looked back, talking directly to Jamie, who was smiling at the thought of always being a fighter. “Anyway the first day you were home I did nothing but hold you, I held you all day, and all night. You were so easy, you would just look up at me and let out a small cry to let me know you wanted something. You were so beautiful.”

The stories went on and on, from her as a child, to me and Jamie as children, to funny jokes her friends told her, to crying about how much she was sorry, to cursing out my dad and yelling about how he could do such terrible thing. It’s my favourite memory of her. The way her face lit up when she would talk about something she loved, to the creases in her forehead when she was trying to remember what happened next. 

She was just finishing a story about her rebellious teenage years when we pulled up to a small, worn-down brick house. The front lawn was wild and unkempt, and the screen door was falling off its hinges. The roof had tree branches on it and there were vines crawling up the house. Yet all of us were buzzing with excitement, ‘This place is so cool!” Jamie exclaimed, ‘There’s a lot of work to do, but I see its potential’ my mom noticed, ‘I love it here,’ I whispered. 

We all grabbed our own duffle bags out of the car and walked into our new home. If you thought it was small on the outside, it was even smaller inside. The wooden floorboards were creaky, the walls had stains and words written on them. Anytime you touched anything in the house a cloud of dust would emerge. There were only two bedrooms, meaning Jamie and I were sharing one. the kitchen was barely big enough for a refrigerator and an oven. However the house was furnished which meant we had beds, a tv, couches, and a desk. Still we were all happy.

My mom, who had been outside on the phone, walked in and proclaimed, “Cleaning time!” In her hands she held dusters, mops, brooms, a can of white paint, and a few paintbrushes. 

Jamie emerged from our new room and ran over to our mother, grabbing a duster and started dusting everything in our home. I walked over and took the paint can and a paintbrush. “We’ll need a tarp so we don’t get it on the floor,” I told her. 

“Out in the shed,” She responded, setting down the mops and started sweeping the dust into piles. 

I walked outside, it was the middle of October but was still extremely hot. Texas weather, the one thing I’ll never like about this place. I thought. Wiping sweat that was already forming off my forehead I walked around to the shed that was sitting the middle of the backyard, it was tilting sideways and the roof seemed to be caving in. But for some odd reason I felt a strange longing for it, and was immediately curious about it. I creeped up to it and stared at the door. It was painted white but you could hardly tell because it was chipped away so bad. 

I reached out for the door handle and when I tugged at it, it wouldn’t budge. I pulled harder, but still no movement. I let go and stared at it, trying to think of a logical way to enter without breaking it. I walked all around the small building, but saw no other entrance besides the door, there weren’t even any windows. I grabbed ahold of the handle again and put my leg on the wall that was right next to the door, then I pulled as hard as I could while pushing my leg into the section that I had placed it on. After pulling for about a straight minute it finally swung open, flinging me down on the ground a few feet away. Looking up at it from the ground I grinned, I guess using brute force does work sometimes. 

I entered the shoddy shack that my mom had called a shed, and glanced around, unlike our home, this place seemed to be bigger on the inside. Holding a lawn mower, a weed eater, a few more cans of paint (I wonder where mom got the first can?) some tarp that I picked up right away, a hose, a tool kit which I opened to find hammers, nails, screws and an electric screw gun! I left the building holding only the tarp and and extra can of paint, just in case. 

I walked back to the house, a crazy idea forming in my mind. As I laid down the tarp and opened the paint can I was starting to form problems and solutions to go along with my plan. By the time the first coat of paint was done in the entryway I already had most of the basic details down. 

“Hey mom! I’m going to mow the lawn,” I yelled, she was in her bedroom checking to make sure everything was useable, and that the floor wouldn’t break out from under us.

“Don’t hurt yourself kiddo!” She called back. I smiled, even being gone from my dad for barely even a day had made her so much happier. 

I made the short hike back to the rundown shed to grab some clippers and the lawnmower. Before I started walking across the back yard, clipping the grass lower than my knees so it was easier to mow I put my headphones in and turned it to my upbeat playlist. The first song that came on was, ‘O Fortuna’ played by the Mozarteum Orchestra Salzburg, it was one of my guilty pleasure songs. 

While I was clipping and mowing I let my mind wander, the first thing it landed on was a memory of my dad and I. I was in 7th grade and was shocked to come home to find my dad not drunk. He was standing at the door waiting for me, in his stained, ripped with holes, white tank top. His beer gut was almost as big as my entire body and his head was losing hair faster than a crashing plane lost altitude. As soon as I entered the house I flinched, expecting nothing good to come out of my dad waiting for me. 

Instead of being angry he muttered, “You’re a man now and I swear to God, if another day passes without you knowing how to do manly stuff I’m going to kill someone.” So he pushed me out of the house and pointed to the lawnmower. “Go across the street and mow our neighbor's yard. If it’s not good enough mow the other neighbor’s yard. When I tell you you can, mow ours. Go!” He had started off barely audible but by his last sentence he was screaming. 

So I had went from house to house, mowing everyone’s yard while my dad screamed at me that I was doing it wrong. By the time I could do our yard, I had already completed 5 people’s small front yards. 

After I had learned to mow he took me to the garage to show me his tools. He grabbed a random piece of wood that had been left over from building the house, and started showing me how to screw things with a drill, and how to hammer. He wasn’t a great teacher, but in those moments when he wasn’t cursing at me, I felt like I actually had a father.

My dad had never liked me. Not since I was first born and threw up in his face (Another story my mom had told on the way over). He started finding random reasons to hate me. ‘You’re hair is too poofy’ ‘Reading is for idiots’ ‘You can’t listen to that crap’ ‘You’re too girly’ ‘Writing in diaries are for losers’ ‘You look stupid’. All of his reasons hurt me, more than he will ever know, or ever care. I use to stay up, late at night and try to fix all the things he hated about me. I shaved off my hair, I threw all my books away, I started listening to classic rock, I started sagging my pants and wearing hats,and I stopped writing. I changed myself and changed myself, but eventually I realized that no matter what I did, he would never actually love me. So I grew my hair out again, I started reading more than I ever had before, I listened to my classical music again, I dressed the way I felt comfortable, and writing became a thing I did every day, no matter where I was.

By the time I had mowed the backyard I was in tears. The thoughts about my dad, mixed with a low-key song that had been accidentally added into the mix just made me feel so depressed that I couldn’t keep it in anymore. I had been holding in my tears since I was 12, and now it all came rushing up to the surface. I cried, and mowed. I cried over what my dad had done to my mom, and to me, and what damage he probably left Jamie with. I cried because I wasted so much time not being who I was trying to impress someone who didn’t even care. I cried because he was finally out of our lives. And most importantly I cried because I finally had a family, I had a mom, who was happy, and a sister who I loved, and was my best friend, I finally had people I could trust and I could depend on, and it was a feeling unknown to me. But it was such a good feeling. 

I finished the front yard, my eyes were so puffy I could barely see out of them, but I was so incredibly happy I couldn’t stop smiling. I looked around, the grass was at normal yard length, but there was still more work to do. I decided I should get the ranched off the roof, because they could start causing leakage in the house. So I looked in the shed, but I didn’t find any ladders, but I did find a pair of work gloves, that I deemed workable. 

I slipped the gloves on and walked around my new home, trying to find away to climb on the roof. After careful inspection, I decided that the vines had been growing for so long, and that I was so skinny that I could crawl up them and onto the roof. The house was only a one story building, so if I did fall it wouldn’t hurt me very badly anyway. 

I started climbing, the vines wobbled a lot, but they did the trick. I was on top of the roof in minutes. I climbed all the way to the top to see how much work I had to do up there. There wasn’t much, just a few branches here and there, they weren’t too heavy either, but just heavy enough for it to do some damage. It only took my ten minutes to clear the roof and get back down on the ground. Then another ten to collect all the fallen branched and set the on our curb. 

I decided to leave the vines, they weren't hurting anything, and they could come in handy if I ever wanted to sit on the roof. 

The rest of the day went by in a blur, I added a second coat of paint in our entryway, unpacked all my stuff, and helped dust our entire house. For dinner we ordered a five dollar pizza from a local fast food place, and chatted excitedly about what was in store for us. 

“On Monday I’m going to take Alex to the high school to try to get him entered into the classes he was already taking, or if you want to switch things up we could see what else they offer,” She nodded excitedly at the idea of me taking classes I hadn’t had the opportunity to take before. “Then, once that’s sorted out I’ll take Jamie over to the elementary school to get her registered. Then I’ll go out and apply for some jobs, then come back home and continue working on the house! Sound good?” 

Jamie and I nodded our heads, both excited to start over at a new school. Jamie was excited to make friends, but I was excited that no one would know about my home life, or that anyone would know me at all. I could get through the rest of junior year, then my senior year without anyone even knowing me. I was pumped. 

Our house only had one bathroom, so as soon as dinner was over Jamie hopped in the shower. As soon as she was out it was my turn. The bathroom was a two parter, the first door held the sinks and a mirror, then there was another door that you went in to go into the shower. I stood in the first room and examined myself in the mirror. My hair was blonde, poofy, and thick and there was more of it sitting over the left side of my head. My eyes were a piercing electric blue. I had a few pimples that always seemed to pop up in the same places. I was 5’11 and extremely skinny with no muscles. I stared at my body, it was too small. I could see a bits of my ribcage, and my stomach was flat, with no abs peeking through.

I took a thirty minute shower with my chill playlist playing in the background, I felt numb all over. Today was the happiest day of my life, and I couldn’t handle it. The emotions were too much. 

After my shower I sat in bed, my little sister was already snoozing away, but I stayed up staring at a blank space in my notebook. I started writing a short story/poem that helped me process my emotions, ‘The child looked over his shoulder at the beast running towards him, it was huge with colossal black eyes and claws the size of humans. The child knew he couldn’t outrun the monster so he hoped for a miracle to come and take the thing away. The child ran and ran, the beast right on his tail. Just as it reached out it’s gigantic hand to swipe the child onto one of his claws to eat another giant being appeared, this one had kind, blue eyes and a friendly aura. The beast that seemed to be on the child's team swept its hand across the mean monsters face, knocking him the the ground. Giving the child enough time to run to safety in an abandoned shack.’ I closed my journal, feeling satisfied, and set it on my bedside table and fell asleep, listening to an assortment of Mozart’s pieces.


	3. ch. 3

Sunday came and went, and with it went many hours spent labouring on the new, and now it looked kind of new, house. Many conversations were had, but none were important enough to store in my brain. A few people stopped by here and there to welcome us to the neighbourhood, but they all left after a few minutes as if to say, ‘Acquaintances, not friends.’ Sunday was supposed to be a day of rest, but on that day, it was a day filled with nonstop work. 

When monday morning finally rolled around I was excited to get out of the house and explore a bit. Everyone in our house was up before 6:30, which had never happened at our other house, and probably would never happen again. Lunches were made swiftly, clothes were put on without much time spent looking at them, and breakfasts were gobbled down. 

Our new school was thirty to forty minutes away from the house, so our mom had rushed us along our morning routine, but because of her, we were out the door at 7:00 sharp. 

The ride to school ended up being thirty-five minutes long, allowing us to show up at the perfect time to finish my school registration. 

“Alrighty dear, you’re all finished up, here’s your schedule.” The middle-aged office lady told me, holding out a white sheet of paper for me to take. “You’re going to go into the cafeteria and wait for the bell to ring, then go to your first period. If you need help just come and ask me.” She smiled the entire time she talked, proving that she didn’t care about me in the slightest. 

I started my walk to the lunch room but before I made it very far my mom embraced me in a very tight bear hug and whispered, “Alex, I love you so much.” 

“I love you too mom,” I replied and then continued walking. 

Entering the lunchroom was like entering a monkey’s cage, there was a lot of movement and noise but then as people looked up and noticed someone strange just standing there they all stopped talking and looked at it. Questioning its appearance. I couldn’t stand all the stares so I looked around for a place to sit. I spotted a chair that was by itself in the corner of the room, I quickly made my way to it and sat down, my heart beating fast from all the looks I had gotten. 

I noticed other people had earbuds in and their phones out, so I took out my headphones and turned on my, “Favorites” playlist. Before long I noticed other people standing up and walking out of the room in a hurry. I turned off my music and made my way to my first period class, english, room 345. It took me all five minutes to find it, but eventually I did. I slipped in, hoping to find an open seat towards the back, but unfortunately the open seat was smack dab in the front in center of the room, seated in between a very attractive hispanic girl and a very tired black girl. The hispanic girl was tall and had long flowing hair that cut sideways over her forehead. She was wearing a bright pink dress that went all the way down to her ankles and was talking very excitedly to the other girl I had to sit by. The other girl had very dark skin and was short compared to pink dress girl. She wasn’t too skinny, but she wasn’t fat either. She had a poofy afro that didn’t sit on top of her head so much as much as it sat behind her. She was wearing all black and was staring at her friend with tired eyes. 

I mentally killed myself, of course the only seat open is in between two talking best friends! I walked into the classroom slowly, hoping they would notice me and stop talking so it would be less awkward. 

But before I could sit down I heard a high pitched excited voice, “Oh! You must be Alex, our new student!” I felt a hand grab my arm and pull me to the center of the class. “Hello class, this is our new student Alex! He just moved here so be sure to welcome him,” She glanced at a kid in the back of the room and added, “Nicely. Anyway, Alex, tell us about yourself.”

Everyone was looking at me with tired judging eyes, I could feel my heartbeat pick up and my hands start to sweat. “Um… I” I racked my brain for something to say, ‘I moved here to get away from my dad’, ‘I only listen to classical music’, ‘I’ve never had a real friend before’. Nothing sounded right so I ended up saying, “English is my favorite subject, I love to write.” It wasn’t a lie, but it made me sound like a total nerd. I noticed the kid in the back smirk. 

“Well, I’m Mrs.Lampton, and I’d like to say on behalf of the class that we are very happy to have you here. You can sit right there.” Mrs.Lampton said too excitedly, pointing to the seat in between the two girls.

Pink dress waved and smiled and dark clothes just did a quick movement with her hands as a greeting. I sat down and immediately was offered a hand to shake, “Hi, I’m Vanessa,” Pink dress told me as I shook her hand, “And that’s my girlfriend Dee.” Vanessa motioned to the tired girl dressed in all black. I silently wondered if she meant 'girlfriends', or 'girl friends'.  
I smiled at both of them and said as politely as I could manage, “It’s nice to meet you two. I'm alex.” 

Vanessa squealed excitedly, “Oh silly, we know! The teacher literally just told us!” my face instantly felt hot but before I could mumble anything she jumped back in, “Dee and I are going to walk you to every single one of your classes. Don't worry about us being late, we're late to classes all the time.” She winked at Dee and I couldn’t help but notice the blush and smile that crossed Dee’s face as she nodded her head. Definitely girlfriends, I thought. 

 

Vanessa looked as if she were about to say something else when Mrs.Lampton started speaking, “Everyone get out your books, we’re going to be doing study guide questions over chapter five, six, and seven today.” She crossed the room from her desk to mine and handed me a worn down copy of ‘The Giver’. “You may listen to music as you work, and please,” she stared straight at Vanessa, “No talking.”

Vanessa pushed her bangs out of her left eye and giggled, turning to me, “I always talk in this class. I can’t help it, I sit right by Dee.” Dee nodded again but didn’t comment, instead she pulled out her headphones and only put one in her ear, the one that wasn’t near her girlfriend. 

I decided not to listen to my music, opting to eavesdrop on the couple’s conversation instead. I’d read the book the year previous so it didn’t take much effort to answer the question. 

Vanessa, ignoring Mrs.Lampton’s instructions, talked the entire period, pausing only to laugh at the short remarks Dee would give back. The two talked about anything and everything, never seeming to get bored of the conversation, which was a feat seeing as how the period was and hour long. 

When the bell finally rang they both stood up, slid their backpacks on and waited for me to do the same. “What class?” Dee asked, addressing me for the first time. Her voice, much like everything about her, was a contrast to Vanessa’s. Instead of being light and smooth it was low and raspy. When she talked to me she jutted her chin out, putting on a fierce expression. 

Vanessa slid her hand into Dee’s as I said, “AP Chem.” 

“Oooo, Mr.Thill, good luck with him.” Vanessa laughed, “Super hard class, Dee’s taking it and is barely making a 95. It’s her lowest grade.” She glanced over at the person whose hand was interlocked with her own, face glowing with pride. 

“A 95 is your lowest grade?” I whistled, amazed. “That’s my highest.”

Dee shrugged, “I study.” was all she said in reply, before stopping outside a pale green door and saying, “This is it. We have this class together.” I nodded my head in understandment and moved to walk in, when Dee didn’t follow I turned back around and raised my eyebrow.

“I’ll come back, I have to walk Vanessa to her class. You’ll see me a few seconds after the bell rings.” Dee explained, already turning away pulling Vanessa along with her. Before they turned a corner Vanessa blew me a kiss and giggled. 

I shook my head in amusement. I liked them, but I reminded myself not to get attached. They already had a close bond formed and it was unlikely they’d form another with me. As I opened the door and stepped into the ill-decorated room I tried to shake the warm feeling that was forming in my chest at the prospect of new friends.


End file.
